Dear writers of trauma, You and I both know that writing about trauma can be cathartic in any form, be it fiction or nonfiction, novel or personal essay. We are encouraged, as writers and storytellers and trauma survivors, to “write our truth” so we can heal but there is an underlying occurrence that I don’t... Continue Reading →
He begins to pour his heart out to You, because of meand within each pause, can’t help but think of her:the little girl who, in me, makes her humble abode.Flooded memories shroud me for a moment until I hear,“You said You would give beauty for ashesand I pray that for her, Lord.”My mind freezes, caught... Continue Reading →
Soft echoes whisper across my soul,your melody makes my heart sing.When you play to me my belief in love is renewedand I can once more breathe.Tugging on my heart stringsare your melodious major chords,how soft the air seems when you play to me,so passionately. *inspired by John Coltrane jam session*
Tossing and turningand flipping sheets over.Grunting in frustration,as the clock moves forward. Mind is spinningand won't slow down.Future's moving closer,can't turn back now. Time is of the essence,too precious to be wasted.Experiences to be had,and dreams to be tasted. Counting sheep, so bountyhoping on a prayer.Wanting sleep, so peaceful,but to find it, don't know where.
I met him in the Spring—by accident.He was sweaty that first day, like hehadn’t showered in weeks, though the real culpritwas the scorching heat of the sun that seemed to have no end.Our friendship grew into a tangled web of danger,and trying to navigate his room was harder thana ballerina tip-toeing on a tightrope.I felt... Continue Reading →